Best. Christmas. Ever.

On Christmas day we were eating lunch at my parent’s house. Gifts had been opened. Music was playing. I was stuffing my face with “pink salad” that I only get once a year. All I know is it has marshmallows and nuts and cherries and fruit cocktail. I purposely do not ask nor want the recipe because I would fix it every single day and weigh five hundred pounds.

The doorbell rang and my mom went to the door. She began screaming in bloodcurdling fashion, and as we all raced to the front porch there stood Rebecca and Jon. For those of you that don’t know, Rebecca is my sister, and she and her husband Jon live in China. They flew home and surprised us.

This is the first Christmas we have all been together at my parent’s house in six years.